


bereave the night

by skeletalparade (boythighs)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Animal Death, Loneliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 19:42:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8635693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boythighs/pseuds/skeletalparade
Summary: Viktor flies all the way back to Japan the same day that Yuuri’s sister calls. He doesn’t stay for Yuuri’s free skate, he doesn’t even watch it on the TV. Instead, he digs a grave for his dog in a country that isn’t home, and sits outside in the cold by it, staring at the makeshift memorial with a splotchy red face and a heart so empty Viktor isn’t sure it’s even worth having.For the first time in all of his life, Viktor is alone.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [perennials](https://archiveofourown.org/users/perennials/gifts).



> the end of episode 8 had me feeling some type of way.
> 
> i'm dedicating this to perennials here on ao3 because they asked for crying viktor. it seems to be their biggest kink, tbh.

Makkachin doesn’t make it.

Viktor flies all the way back to Japan the same day that Yuuri’s sister calls. He doesn’t stay for Yuuri’s free skate, he doesn’t even watch it on the TV. Instead, he digs a grave for his dog in a country that isn’t home, and sits outside in the cold by it, staring at the makeshift memorial with a splotchy red face and a heart so empty Viktor isn’t sure it’s even worth having.

He remembers the first time he’d ever seen Makkachin. Thirteen years old and trailing behind his parents on a family day out, eyes caught by the jumping brown blur on the other side of a storefront window. He had been a tiny puppy bouncing on wobbly legs, not yet fully grown, bark barely audible through the glass, but he had been calling out to Viktor all the same. Viktor had dragged his parents inside, begged, and pleaded, until they gave in. The day, in retrospect, had been happier than any other in Viktor's life. 

Makkachin had always been so warm, even on the coldest nights, and the two of them had been inseparable. Always running and playing and so energetic. Makkachin was his best friend.

Now, under the earth of foreign lands, Viktor wonders if he’ll ever know what warmth is again. It feels like there’s nothing left inside of him. It feels like someone has reached into his chest and pried out all of the necessary bits and bobs to make life livable. The universe seems a barren wasteland collapsing in around him. Not with a bang, but with the whisper of the wind.

He should have been there. He should have been there to take care of him - they never should have left Russia. Viktor should have left well enough alone, but now… now the only thing alone is  _ Viktor _ . 

His phone vibrates in his pocket and he almost doesn’t answer it, but he does, because even though he doesn’t want to talk to anyone right now, the world around him is still turning. Even if his isn’t.

The text is from Yuuri, of course. 

**From: Yuuri**

_ Silver again. _

His phone vibrates again, another message popping up before he can reply to the first.

**From: Yuuri**

_ I’m very sorry about Makkachin. I’ll board a flight tonight if I can. You shouldn’t be alone right now. _

**To: Yuuri**

_ It’s fine. Congratulations on the silver. You deserve it. But please stay in Russia. _

Once the text has been delivered, Viktor powers his phone down and puts it back in his pocket, leaving his hand there with it. His coat is so warm, but Viktor is still freezing. The world doesn’t feel right. Viktor doesn't want to see Yuuri right now, or anyone for that matter. The thought of having to force any modicum of happiness when there is no joy left inside of him makes Viktor want to heave his lunch onto the dirt beside Makkachin's grave. 

He presses a hand to the fresh dirt and curls his fingers into the ground, gritting his teeth and choking down the sobs as they threaten to destroy him. 

Yakov was right. There isn’t anything to Viktor’s games of playing coach, because they’re just that: games. Because of his foolishness and rash behavior, Makkachin is _dead_. Viktor will never be able to take him on walks again, tripping all over his feet to keep up with his sweet little puppy. He’ll never be able to throw a stick as far as his arm can manage just for Makkachin to retrieve it faster than Viktor can cry "Fetch, Makkachin!" He’ll never be able to curl up with Makkachin at night again, face pressed into soft, wiry curls. He’ll never be licked by him, lovingly nipped at by him, playfully barked at by him. None of those things are ever going to happen again, and it’s  _ all Viktor’s fault _ . 

Between one unsteady breath and the next, Viktor is crying. His shoulders tremble with the force of the first, aching sob as it rips through him, leaving him crunched over and wheezing. His head is all muddled up with regrets and anguish, sorrow so tangible that it snares around his neck and closes in around his esophagus. Oh, he can't _breathe_.

“I’m so sorry.” Viktor whispers to the dirt. “I wish I could have been there to save you. I should have been there, Makkachin, but I wasn’t, and I’m _sorry_.” 

His heart screams with agony as he bends over onto the soft earth, head resting on his folded arms as he sobs onto his best friend’s grave. The wind bites at his skin as the back of his shirt rides up, but Viktor ignores it, streams of tears and snot cascading down his reddened cheeks. Cold inside and out, skin and heart just the same.

“What am I supposed to do, Makkachin?” The question shakes out of him on coughing, quaking breaths, and Viktor struggles to draw in oxygen as he cries. “What am I supposed to do without you?”

And the truth is that Viktor doesn’t know where to go from here. So he stays there, screaming into the overcast night around him, and no one dares come out from inside of the inn. 

For the first time in all of his life, Viktor is alone. 

The fallen star. 

**Author's Note:**

> come and follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/yuurikatsukiss) for even more pain and suffering!
> 
> thanks for reading.


End file.
